Our Bed is Cold When You are Away
by Frigg
Summary: Éomer longs to be back with his wife and family .... and his wife thinks that it is lonely and cold to sleep in their bed when he is away ....


A/N: Thank you for all the very flattering reviews I am getting. I am glad and proud that you like my stories. Somebody asked me whether Of Pregnant Queens...... was a one-shot story? To that I can say; yes, it is ..... but you might consider this one a separate sequel. I always like to base my fics on something I have hinted at in previous fics.

Disclaimer: And I have realised that I have never actually put a disclaimer in .... well, of course I do not own any of the main characters (I wish I did sigh)

OUR BED IS COLD WHEN YOU ARE AWAY

The men could tell that their king was eager to get back. Several times he had called out for the riders to move faster.

"Not surprisingly, after all we have been away for more than six weeks," Éothain, First Marshal of the Mark said to himself as he spurred his horse on to follow his king.

Eight weeks before Éomer had received despatches from Aragorn reporting that small parties of Dunlendings were raiding villages along the borders between Gondor and Rohan and Éomer had decided to send out an éored to hunt them down and to lead it himself. Not that he had to. After all he was the king and had his marshals to take care of such matters, but it was hard for him to shred the habits of a time when such missions were the task of the Third Marshal, the position Éomer had held until his uncle died.

Éothain and the king had been friends ever since Éomer and his sister came to live with Théoden King at Edoras. They had soon found out that they had much in common, although Éothain's father had just been a lieutenant of the Mark and Éomer's father Éomund had been the First Marshal and married to the king's sister. Both their fathers had been killed by orcs when they were mere boys, and even though at times Éomer had been forced to move in different circles than his friend, he never let it come in between them.

They had learned their skills with weapons and horses together, they had fought side by side, and when Éomer had been banished from Rohan, Éothain was one of the first to follow his marshal. He knew him better than anyone; he had seen him in battle and in victory, in despair and in happiness.

They had shared several drunken nights and they had chased maids together. Éothain had seen Éomer despair on the Pelennor Fields when he found his uncle and his sister. He had fought with him before the Black Gate – and he had seen him fall in love with Lothíriel, seen him at his wedding day, tall and proud of his beautiful queen. Thus he understood very well Éomer's motivation to press them on.

"A warm bed," he thought, "and a wife with open arms, these are the rewards of us all returning. It is good that it came to him as well."

Edoras was not far now; darkness had fallen but the lights from the houses and the fires burning at all times before the gates and on the stairs of Meduseld could be seen from miles around.

Éomer looked at Éothain "And do not tell me that you are not looking forward to returning as well. I have seen the looks you have cast me for the past hour or so," he told his friend.

Éothain looked innocently at him "I have no such thoughts, Sire. I was only thinking that you seemed slightly impatient, that is all."

Éomer had sent a Rider ahead to inform the queen and the families of the men that they were approaching, and apparently the guards had heard them coming, because the gates opened and they rode in through the gates and up to the stables, where they dismounted.

"I do believe that I am more saddle-sore than usual," Éothain mumbled.

"Aha, anywhere inconvenient?" Éomer asked with a glint in his eyes. The two men looked at each other and burst out laughing. Éomer ensured that Firefoot was well cared for and went up to the Golden Hall. He felt tired, but also a bit disappointed that no one was there to greet him.

Suddenly the big doors were opened and a slight figure came rushing out, flinging itself around his neck.

"They only told me now that you were back, and I have been standing out here for hours, looking for you. I just went inside to fetch a shawl and make arrangements for your homecoming and then I heard them say that you had arrived, it is not that I did not want to greet you …."

Lothíriel was rambling. Éomer shut her mouth with a kiss. When he let her go, Lothíriel sighed, "I have missed you so, I had never imagined that our bed could be so cold."

"But no more," Éomer grinned, "I am back now. "Are the boys asleep?" He inquired.

Lothíriel smiled. "Of course they are, it is late. Although Elfwine protested and insisted that he could stay awake for a very long time because he wanted to see you. He has missed you so."

Éomer smiled. "I will see them tomorrow, I have missed them, too."

She looked at her husband. "Are you hungry? I do not have to ask whether you need a bath; it is quite obvious that you do. And I have already told the servants to prepare one!" She freed herself and wrinkled her nose.

"I could do with something to eat; I have not had anything since this morning. But first let me get out of this armour."

He put his arm round Lothíriel's shoulders as they walked to their rooms. In the sitting room, Lothíriel helped her husband remove his armour, she liked to help him with it; it was not usually a woman's task but she did not mind doing it. Later, his squire would come and pick it up to have it cleaned. There had been a time, when Éomer would have done this himself, but being the king after all meant some privileges.

Lothíriel watched her husband remove the last items of his armour and place them in the anteroom. She noticed that he looked battle-worn and tired.

"Did you succeed in stopping them?" Lothíriel asked.

"Yes, I believe that we slay most of them and the rest we chased back into the hills where they came from. A sorry lot really, some of them did not even know how to use their weapons properly. Still, they were able to kill and plunder innocent people and they deserved what they got." Éomer proffered. He sighed, "We need to settle matters with them once and for all to get peace in our lands."

The maid, who had been preparing the bath came out from the adjoining dressing room and curtsied to her king and queen. "The bath is all ready for you, Your Majesty," she said; sending Éomer a heated look from half-averted eyes, and left the room.

Lothíriel had seen that look before on the faces of the maids and on more than one occasion she had also overheard the women of the court talk of what they would do if they had the handsome king in their bed. Lothíriel usually did not let it bother her. She knew that Éomer was faithful to her, although on one or two occasions during her pregnancies she had let the doubt get to her, and Éomer had had a hard time convincing her that she had no cause to suspect him of anything.

She looked at her husband; though dirty and weary, he was still attractive and she understood why the women felt the way they did. Éomer usually ignored such looks and had obviously not noticed this one either; he proceeded to remove his padded west and outer tunic. Lothíriel took the clothes from him and he caught her in his arms again.

"The last few leagues were sheer hell for me," he said "never had I thought that I could miss you so much. It was bad in the beginning of our marriage, but the past couple of years it is getting worse. Mind, I did not realise then what it would do to me making love to you almost every night and waking up beside you every morning."

Lothíriel looked lovingly into his face. "I felt the same, My Lord and husband, every minute and hour that you were away from me felt like long years and it was lonely lying in our bed."

She paused for a moment and then looked at him with a twinkle in her eyes. "Although I must say that these past weeks I have gotten a bit more sleep than I usually do."

"Such sass should not come from the mouth of a queen; she should be above such!" he grinned devilishly and proceeded to kiss her fiercely.

Just then there was a knock on the door. Éomer let go of his wife and called "Enter".

Fréalin, the housekeeper entered, carrying a large tray.

"I thought that I would come myself, my Lord," she said, "seeing as you have just returned from a long journey." She looked at the king, who she loved like her own son, and then back at the queen taking in the look on both their faces.

"Thank you, Fréalin, that was thoughtful of you. We will leave the tray until the morning, I think." Lothíriel smiled at the older woman.

"Goodnight." Fréalin inclined her head and left, smilingly. She had not been wrong.

"The servants have obviously been discussing my homecoming," Éomer chuckled, "and Fréalin did not want any of them to catch their king and queen in a compromising situation. It is not easy getting past her." He smiled and sat down in one of the high-backed chairs, pouring himself a goblet of wine. Lothíriel handed him a plate of food and sat down herself in the chair opposite him.

When he had finished the meal, he sat down the goblet and rose, "And now to the bath," he said, looking cheekily at his wife. "Would you care to join me, dear Lady?"

"Not that I need it, my Lord. But – why not?" Lothíriel looked at him; her husband's dark eyes glittered and were filled with desire for her. She moved over to him and let her hands glide over his shoulders. She moved them up to untie the lacings of his shirt, pulling it over his head. Leaning against him, she inhaled his scent, musky and sweaty, but somehow still attractive.

She chuckled and said mockingly, "Oh, I find it most enticing when you are dirty and smell of horses."

He grunted, "What did you expect from a warrior, my Lady, after several weeks on horseback and fighting to protect our homeland? That I would smell of lavender?"

She stood on her toes to kiss him languidly, biting his lower lip. "No, not really. Do you want help to remove your other clothing, my Lord?" she questioned and moved her hands to his waistband.

She could feel that he was already aroused, his manhood straining his trousers. She grinned mischievously, acknowledging as much as she undid the lacings and pulled them down over his hips.

He moaned as he felt her hands on him. "Hardly any surprise, woman, I have been away from you for so long – and then you kiss me like that?"

He started to pull at her outer dress; she helped him remove it and stood in her thin slip.

"You have not bothered with much underwear, my love," he ascertained looking at her with a cheeky grin.

"No, I did not want you to have to exert yourself, my Lord" Lothíriel let him pull down the slip, feeling his hands on her skin. "Oh, how I have missed the feeling of your hands," she whimpered, biting her lip.

Éomer took her hand and led her into the adjoining room, helping her into the large tub and gliding down in the water himself, sighing contentedly as he ducked under. She positioned herself behind him, encircling him with her legs as she began washing his hair and massaging the soap into his shoulders and his back. She reached around him and let her hands slide down his chest.

Éomer groaned, "If you only knew what you are doing to me."

"Oh, but I do know," she smiled softly, continuing to wash him and letting her hands caress his nipples and moving lower down to his hips. Éomer rose and stood in the tub as he washed the lower parts of his body. Then he pulled her up and they both stood in the tub. He kissed her fervently, letting his hands glide over her body.

Then he lifted her up and stepped out of the bath. Still holding her, with her legs encircling his waist, he grabbed a towel and started drying her.

As he let go of her to dry himself and his hair, she stood looking at him, his golden body hair glinting in the candle light and the flickering flames from the fire, taking in his muscular form, the long legs and slim hips.

"I fully understand why most women in Rohan and Gondor envy me and cannot take their eyes of you," she said huskily.

Éomer grinned, the devil very present in his eyes. "Aye, and most women have not even seen me like this. That may be, but many a man envy _me_ for what I have, that I know for certain, and I am glad that you are only for me." He went to her, and pulling her to him, he lifted her and carried her to their bed.

Éomer lay down beside Lothíriel, claiming her mouth, kissing her deeply and passionately, and letting his hands glide over her body. He caressed her breasts, continuing to her stomach and then the sensitive spot between her legs. She moaned as he let his fingers pass over the most sensitive part of her, feeling her moist. Then he rose to kneel over her, letting his mouth go where his hands had been.

He kissed her neck, letting his lips trace down to her breast. Light kisses rained down on her stomach and then downwards. He parted her legs gently and put his mouth where his fingers had been, letting his tongue flicker over her most sensitive part. She moaned and squirmed.

She moaned contentedly "Oh, how I have missed you."

He pulled himself up against her. "I missed you, too, my love." Éomer murmured with his mouth against hers, as he entered her.

For a while he moved inside her and against her, first slowly and then holding her thighs and thrusting harder and harder. He felt her softness tightening around him and suddenly she cried out, grasping his shoulders.

"Please, my love – please …," she gasped. Éomer felt his pleasure rising and thrusting hard and deeply inside her once more; he felt his release pushing on. Crying out her name, he let himself go, he collapsed on her, as she cried out again.

After what seemed a long, long time, he rolled over, rising on his elbow and looked into her eyes. "I love you, Lothy, and no matter how far I go, I will always get back to you."

"I know, Love," she smiled blissfully at him. He rolled onto his back and pulled her closer, looking into her eyes. "Believe that, Lothy", he said stroking her back. She settled her head under his chin and soon his even breathing told her that he had fallen asleep. Lothíriel lay for a while looking into the darkness before sleep took her.

Next morning, before sunrise, Lothíriel woke feeling her husband's warm body beside her. She smiled happily and turned towards him. He was lying on his back, soundly sleeping, one arm thrown over his head, his blonde hair spread all over the pillow. She realized how tired he must have been after the mission and how he must have needed some sleep.

Lying here, poised on one elbow, just looking at him she suddenly felt a tingling in her body, remembering the night before.

She leaned closer to him and let her hand glide over his jaw line, feeling his coarse beard, then she moved her hands down to his chest, letting her fingertips circle through his golden chest hair. She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the heat rising in her cheeks; then she opened them again and continued down over his flat stomach and downwards, holding her breath as she did.

"And what do you think you are doing" her husband inquired, his voice drowsy and raspy from sleep. "Were you thinking of taking advantage of an innocently sleeping man?"

He pulled her towards him, looking into her eyes. Lothíriel lowered her eyes demurely, but then raised them to look fully at him.

"No, my Lord, nothing of the sort, I was only trying to wake you gently –- and yes, perhaps take a little advantage of the situation, now that you are home and available to me." Now she was grinning openly, her eyes dancing with mirth and love for him.

"Uhm, I see; the lady seems to think that I have been away from her too long, and possibly fell asleep too quickly last night?" he inquired.

"Something of that nature, yes. And then I thought that we should probably make use of whatever time we have; Elfwine will be awake soon and then it will be too late --- that is, of course, if you feel rested." Lothíriel could hardly keep her mirth bottled up.

"Well, you asked for it," he stated and rolled her over on her back, pressing her down with his weight. Their eyes met and she could see the awakening passion in his eyes, just before he claimed her mouth. She closed her eyes and moaned softly.

Oddly enough, such mornings he did not have to touch her much before she was ready for him; last night's ministrations and the warmth from the bed, as well as the gentle flirtatious teasing had made it so this morning, too.

She told him as much, slowly and lovingly letting her hands glide down his back. He groaned softly and then moved to glide into her, slowly and deliberately. She enfolded him totally, little moans forming in her throat.

"This is too much, woman," he groaned hoarsely, "too much,"

"Slowly, my love, I want to savour this moment," she whispered huskily into his ear, nibbling on his ear lobe. Éomer pulled himself up to rest on his arms, looking down at her. He moved slowly inside her, gliding in and out, until he could almost not take anymore. He thrust harder, feeling his release coming on.

He put a hand between their bodies to caress her, she whimpered softly, as he did. Suddenly she uttered a soft cry, she closed her eyes and everything seemed to disappear.

Feeling this, Éomer gave in and let his release float through him. He moved down on her, kissing her passionately and then rolled off her to lie down beside her. They lay still in their bed, their foreheads touching as their breathing returned to normal.

"Ye gods, Lothy, if I have to do this almost every night and every morning, it is perhaps only just as well that I am away from time to time, otherwise I will grow old before my time," he breathed, his hazel eyes looking into hers. "Do I have time for an hour's sleep?"

"You might, but do not count on it." Lothíriel kissed him, got up and put her robe on. She only just had time to close her robe before the door opened and a little boy with blonde, tousled hair came in. "Papa," he cried and jumped into the bed with his father, flinging his little arms around his neck. "I missed you so, and I tried to keep awake, but I could not." The three year old looked at his father with big hazel eyes.

Éomer met his wife's gaze. "So much for that hour's sleep," he said dryly.

Lothíriel chuckled. "Cedra must have helped him dress, and Haldred must be hungry." She went into her dressing room to wash and dress. She peered out of the door. "You sit here and talk with Papa, Elfwine, and then I will go get Haldred. When I get back, we will go down to Fréalin and have some breakfast."

Lothíriel went into the children's room, which was next door to their bedroom and after a while returned with Haldred, who was six months old. She placed him on the bed with Elfwine and her husband. The baby boy gurgled as he caught sight of his big brother and smiled a big, gummy smile.

Éomer had sat up in bed and lifted his knees so that the babe leaned against them. He looked at his wife. "I do love you, you know, although the reason seems quite dim at the moment," he said sarcastically, as he joggled his youngest son on his knee.

Lothíriel just smiled. "Yes, I know. I will just take the tray out and go tell Fréalin about breakfast, then I will be back."

"Enjoy yourself," she said teasingly to Éomer, who made a face at her.

She took last night's supper tray and carried it to the kitchen. Fréalin was already up and about. The elderly housekeeper smiled when she saw the queen entering with the tray.

"I suppose that it was good to have the king back, my Lady, after he has been away for so long" she inquired.

"Yes, and I think that he is rather hungry by now," Lothíriel replied, blushing at bit at the blunt inquiry, and she smiled at the older woman.

"Thank you for bringing the tray yourself last night. Will you help me prepare a good, healthy meal for the king? He will need his strength in the next few days now that he is home."

Fréalin looked at the queen, seeing the light in her eyes. "Have you told him the news, my Lady?"

"No, but I will; I did not dare last night for fear that he did not dare touching me." Lothíriel felt quite at ease with Fréalin; eventually she had become more a friend than a servant. "I'd better go and rescue him. I left the boys with him."

She returned to their rooms. Her maid was waiting in the children's room to take the boys to have their breakfast. Éomer and his sons had obviously had a good time while she had been away appearing from the laughing and flushed faces of the boys. It looked unmistakably like a tickling session.

She smiled at them. "Come, Elfwine. I think that we should leave your father to wash and get dressed and then we can all have some breakfast." She went to the bed and lifted up her youngest son. She called to her maid, "Cedra, will you take the boys to the kitchen. I will be there shortly."

Cedra took the boys and Lothíriel turned to Éomer, who leaned against the headboard, grinning. "Life is good," he mused, "I am safely at home and my boisterous sons are gone, leaving me alone with their mother. What more could a man want?"

Lothíriel had moved closer to the bed and he took her hand, pulling her down to him. She giggled, as she felt his lips against her neck.

"Perhaps that you are going to be a father again?" Lothíriel remarked innocently, trying to appear unaffected.

Éomer's dark eyes widened and he let go of her, looking at his wife with disbelief in his eyes. "What, Lothy - would you mind repeating --- so soon! How ….. and when?"

Lothíriel giggled, "As for the how, my Lord, you should know by now – and when? Well, I suppose that something went amiss with my calculations this time, as I am still breastfeeding Haldred. I am due in six months' time, I think. I had been feeling rather strangely and suspected that I might be with child again … so I went to Freda just yesterday and learned it was so."

Éomer held his wife tight. "That was, indeed, a surprise to get home to. Well, actually not _that_ surprising." He kissed her very softly and very lovingly. "Promise me a girl this time; a girl who looks like her mother."

Then he grinned. "But – now I think that I will get up. I could eat a horse now and I also need to get washed. I smell as…." And then he paused "as I did before I had the bath last night."

He grinned roguishly. She guessed what lay behind that grin and quipped: "and we have only got cold water, my Lord. Although I think that will be quite appropriate at this point, deeming from that look in your eyes."

Éomer grinned at his wife and went into the adjoining chamber and she could hear the water splashing and her husband whistling, as she left him.

As they sat down with their children to have breakfast, Éomer said, "I will write Éowyn and tell her the news. I am sending a letter to Faramir and Aragorn any way, telling them of our progress with the Dunlendings. Will you be writing your father?"

Lothíriel nodded. "Yes, and I can imagine what he is going to say." Éomer grinned, "So can I, Love, so can I."

Finishing the meal, he rose and kissed his wife, who sat with Haldred. Éomer kissed the dark head of his youngest. "To council," he sighed, "although I would rather stay here with you and the boys. The members of the council probably have a lot of things where they need my decision and I might as well tell them the news. Although I can also imagine the comments from Gamling and Éothain." He went out the door after stroking the blonde head of his son and heir.

Lothíriel looked after him and smiled to herself, as she went about her duties. She took her sons with her to the sitting room and sat down on the floor to play with them. Through the door to the bedchamber, she could see the maid making their bed. She smiled to herself, it would most certainly never be cold, when Éomer was home; of that she felt quite assured.


End file.
